I am most definitely not. A girly girl, I mean. I’m more the “playing tackle football in the street – rehashing the 2010 Red Sox season – outdrinking the guys – X-Men trivia” kind of girl. In the words of my friend M “the perfect 12 year old boy” (well, maybe without the drinking).
But, and here’s the deep dark secret, I do actually like some girly things. I just tend to keep them under wraps. But here it is, my list of favorite girly things. Some are blatantly stereotypical, so sue me. See how many girl points I can rack up.
1. The “French 75 cocktail”. Champagne, gin and lemon juice and a sugar cube. Fizzy, not too sweet, and goes straight to your head. Since I usually drink something in a highball this is a good girly drink. (I lose one girly point for knowing that it is named after an artillery shell)
2. The Sidecar. In Portland E and I used to go to Jake’s Grill and have these. Many of these. Since I’ve never really done the “cocktails with the girls” thing well, it was always nice to hang out with E, and it made me feel a little more normal.
3. Thebeautydepartment.com I would like to pretend I don’t know who Lauren Conrad is, But I do. And I love, love, love this site. I check in every day.
4. Jewelery. Especially jewelery given by a man. One man. My husband. I have a lovely pearl and white gold necklace he gave me for my 30th birthday, and a white sapphire necklace for christmas the year after son J was born, oh, and my too-gorgeous for words eternity band for our 10th wedding anniversary. What can I say, the man has great, tasteful, taste.
5. Benefit. Love their makeup. Love the job that Eva at the Macy’s at Arden Fair did on my brows. She wears glasses and has shorter hair, so she knows how important great brows are.
6. Lingerie. And not Victoria’s Secret crap. DKNY. It’s not expensive, but it’s nice.
7. Dove chocolate. Yeah, my newly formed life philosophy based on Dove chocolate wrappers is coming along nicely, thank you. But I also just love the chocolate. Try it with port. I’m currently drinking Peltier Station’s USB.
8. Girly magazines. (Oh, husband J says I should say “fashion magazines” since girly magazines conjures up something COMPLETELY different.) Vogue, Glamour, InStyle. You name it. I’ve bought it.
9. The Royal Wedding. Didn’t care. Didn’t follow. But that morning we were in the break room watching the tv, and I saw the dress and said, “Oh, isn’t she lovely! M (recently engaged) would look great in that style.” And I thought A and D were going to faint from my having uttered those words.
10. Proposals. On the video at work there was footage of a co-worker at another store asking another co-worker to marry him. I’ve actually known both of them for as long as I was working at the company, and so, yes, I started to tear up. And then when M and J (who have been mentioned in posts previously as being “in lurve” )got engaged, I also, I’ll admit it, got a little teary.
11. Perfume. If it’s Britney Spears, keep walking. If you’re wearing real perfume, come talk to me. You actually know Jicky or Tabac Blonde? Oh yeah, we can have a conversation. Me? I wear Chanel Cuir de Russie.
12. Romance novels. Courtney Milan, love. Larissa Ione, love. JR Ward, love. I’ve been teasing A at work for nearly a year, talking about the novels I love that I will never admit. Hey consider this a gift.
13. Bubble baths. I’m fond of my Dr. Hauschka Lavender bath. I’m addicted to my Dead Sea Salts. But I would shrivel up and DIE if I couldn’t have any more Rain Bubble Bath from Escential. There’s just something about that damn scent that makes everything better.
14. People in “lurve”. As snarky as I am, I do actually appreciate people in “lurve”, even if they do make me feel like losing my lunch from time to time. I love watching M text J in the mornings at break. Seeing S and R together might actually restore my faith in humanity. And M and H are so fucking cute that I sometimes wonder if they’re not Cylons. (Oh damn, there goes another girly point for mentioning Cylons…)
and finally the coup de resistance:
15. Jane Austen. Granted, this one isn’t a secret. I wrote my senior project in college on Miss Austen and until I got a Kindle had an entire shelf full. Oh, Miss Austen, how do I love thee? You understand men’s and women’s foibles better than anyone else. You wrote what is, I will argue to my death, the singularly best example of the English novel…ever. (Oh yeah, Virginia Woolf acolytes, bring it on.) And yet, you can still make me swoon, and there are damn few things in this life that will do that.
Add ’em up people. How did I do?